Word of Honor

“Bad dreams?”

“Anxious ones.” Emory contemplated what terrors had visited Dana in the night, because she gave every sign of having awakened from a nightmare. “How about you?”

Dana was so used to avoiding any kind of personal conversation, she almost gave one of her noncommittal answers. Then she thought about the fact that she was alone with a woman at four thirty in the morning, and she didn’t want to pretend it didn’t matter. “I’m still getting the last skirmish out of my system. It’ll be another few weeks before I adjust to sleeping in a bed and not listening for incoming fire.”

Emory frowned. “Are all your assignment so dangerous?”

“No, usually they’re really cushy ones like this.” Dana smiled and Emory laughed.

“Oh yes, tonight was nothing but fun and games.” Emory glanced toward the digital clock on the stove. “I wonder if Cam is back yet.”

Dana noticed the familiarity with which Emory referred to the deputy director. Whatever had happened to bond that group together, it had been significant. “When did you meet all of them?”

“Last month in…” Emory shook her head. “I don’t even know how to have a conversation with you because I’m afraid anything I say will end up in print.”

Dana pulled out a chair and sat down facing Emory. She nodded toward her computer. “Were you looking for something? My notes on Blair Powell, maybe?”

“What? No! I saw it and wanted to check my e-mail for messages from the lab, but then I realized I couldn’t just use your computer.” Emory couldn’t believe Dana was insinuating she might be going through her personal documents. “Why would you even think I was reading your notes?”

“I don’t.”

Emory narrowed her eyes, astonished that Dana could anger her so easily. She was used to dealing with confrontational, argumentative, even obnoxiously rude people without losing her temper. Dana made a mildly insulting insinuation and she completely lost her composure. “Then why did you ask? You don’t know me well enough to make that kind of accusation.”

Dana rested her elbows on her knees and supported her chin on her interlaced fingers, grinning slightly. She tilted her head from side to side. “Well, you don’t know me, either, but you suspect the worst.”

“With good reason,” Emory snapped. “I watched you questioning everyone you could tonight, including me. That’s what you do. It’s all a means to an end for you, isn’t it?”

“I was working part of the time tonight, you’re right,” Dana said, struggling not to let her temper take over. “Does it make any difference to you that the White House specifically requested that I do this job? And the deputy director—Blair Powell’s lover—insisted that I do it? Do you think I like following the first daughter around, imposing on her privacy?” Angry at the situation and angrier still that Emory blamed her for it, Dana shot to her feet. “I’d rather be back in Afghanistan being bombed.”

Emory jumped up as Dana stalked away and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t say that.”

Dana spun around. “Why?”

They were so close, Emory could see the tiny flecks of silver in Dana’s eyes. Heat poured off Dana in waves, and Emory didn’t know if it was from anger or the simple force of her personality. Whatever the cause, it ignited her inside and she felt her nipples tighten in response. Completely unbidden, she brushed Dana’s cheek with her fingertips. “I don’t know. It scares me to think of you in danger.”

Dana sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“What?” Emory asked, her voice so low and husky she didn’t recognize it. She didn’t recognize her body either. Her limbs felt liquid, and her breasts ached. She looked down and realized she still held Dana’s arm. She wanted to guide Dana’s hand to her breast, knowing somehow those strong, tanned fingers would turn the ache to pleasure.

“Don’t touch me like that.” Dana opened her eyes to find Emory staring at her, her lips parted in faint surprise, the expression in her eyes absolutely unmistakable. “Unless you want me to touch you back.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Emory said. “I don’t know why I feel this way.”

“What way?” Dana whispered.

“Like I want your hands on me. Like I’ve always wanted that.”

Dana groaned and took a step back. “The last twelve hours have been crazy. You’ll feel different when the sun comes up.”

Emory laughed a little unsteadily. “I said I wasn’t worried about you seducing me. I didn’t think I’d be the one doing the seducing.”

“You haven’t seduced me yet.” Dana gently disengaged her arm from Emory’s grasp. Emory’s fingers were soft, so soft, and she knew she’d be dreaming about those fingers gliding over her body for a very long time. “But I’m weakening really fast.”

“I’m sorry.” Emory flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t want you to think I’m one of those women who wants to bed her lesbian friends just to see what she’s missing.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m not that easy to offend.” Dana grinned.

“Besides, I’ve had some pretty good times with married women who wanted a little no-strings fun for an afternoon.”

“I’m not one of those women,” Emory said sharply. She instantly pictured Dana with some sexy, curvaceous model type tumbling around on a motel room bed in the middle of the afternoon and felt a surge of jealousy that was completely foreign to her. When she and her husband had stopped having sex, she thought he might have gone outside the relationship to satisfy his needs, and the possibility never bothered her. She wasn’t even involved with Dana, and she hated the thought of her pleasing another woman. Or being pleased by one. “God, I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Hey, Dr. Constantine,” Dana said, leaning forward to tuck an errant strand of midnight hair behind Emory’s ear, “I think you should remember that stress does funny things to our systems. Give yourself a break.”

Emory couldn’t help herself. She caught Dana’s hand and held it against her cheek for just a second. She was right, Dana’s hand felt strong, and even though her fingers were chafed from the sun and the sand, they were also gentle. She imagined them rubbing over her nipples and shuddered, releasing Dana’s hand. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to touch me, either. My nervous system seems to be short-circuiting.”

Dana wished she had pockets to jam her hands into, because she wanted them back on Emory’s body. She wanted to see that flash of surprise and need in Emory’s eyes again. Christ, she wanted to take her to bed. “Okay. The no-touch rule is now in effect for both of us. Deal?”

“Deal.” Emory experienced that confusing mix of disappointment and relief again and pointed to Dana’s computer. She needed to do something normal, to ground herself somehow, because she didn’t recognize who she was right now. “Do you mind if I check my mail? I need to let my chief tech know I won’t be back until the end of next week.”

“No, go ahead.” Dana was acutely aware that she was not only standing in the kitchen in her underwear, she was totally turned on, completely hard, and thoroughly soaked. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay while I use your computer?”

“Jesus, Emory.” Dana wanted to tear her hair out or grab the woman and…do what? Have her on the kitchen table? Drag her into the bedroom for a quick romp? Yes! No, no, she didn’t. What she wanted was for Emory to look at her again with hunger in her eyes and know that it was for her, and her alone. No uncertainty, no confusion, no doubt. And that was not going to happen. “Maybe we should try trusting each other too. I’ll go first. You can use the computer whenever you want to.”

“Dana,” Emory called just before Dana disappeared down the hall.

Dana turned. “What?”

“I know you have a job to do, and I don’t understand all the reasons that it’s important, but I believe you that it is. I’ll try to remember that.”

“Thanks.”

Then Dana disappeared and Emory sat motionless, listening until she heard a door close and the shower come on. Burying her face in her hands, she willed her out-of-control body to quiet. Her seething arousal wasn’t helped by the image of herself sliding open the shower door, slipping under the hot spray, and pressing her breasts against Dana’s slick back. She moaned and forced her hands to move to the keyboard, when what she really wanted was to roam them over Dana’s body or at the very least to quench the burning in her own.

Instead, she typed in the password to her Webmail and focused on the messages. Whatever strange and incomprehensible addiction she had developed for Dana Barnett, it would pass if ignored. All she had to do was concentrate on what really mattered. Her work.

Chapter Sixteen

Blair put her paintbrush aside when she heard Ramsey murmur into his radio. Despite her objections, Valerie had insisted that an agent remain inside her loft for the remainder of the night. Once she had started painting, she could almost ignore his presence, but as the hours ticked away, part of her mind waited for some sign of Cam’s return.

Now she tried to read his expression from across the room. The blinds were closed but she knew it had to be after dawn. She wasn’t tired. While she’d worked, she hadn’t been aware of her body at all. Usually she would paint until her forearm cramped, but tonight she hadn’t even been aware of that. She opened and closed her hand. Her fingers were stiff.

She started forward as Ramsey moved toward the door. “Is it Cam?”

“If you’ll wait right there, Ms. Powell,” he said as he dropped his right hand to the holster on his hip and opened the door with his left, completely blocking her view of the hallway outside.

She kept her eyes fixed on the door as Ramsey sidestepped, opening it wider. Cam walked in, scanned the room until she found Blair, and smiled.

“Hi, baby,” Cam said.

“Hello, darling.” Blair hadn’t realized how cold she’d been, or how deeply the hollow ache had penetrated, until the sound of Cam’s voice warmed her and the sight of her face filled her empty places. Even as her world slipped back into place, she searched for any signs of trouble. Cam looked exhausted, which she had expected, and was wearing military-issue clothes instead of her own, which wasn’t good. Something had contaminated Cam’s suit, possibly the smoke she hadn’t wanted to go into detail about. But it might have been blood, and Blair raked her gaze over Cam looking for any sign of injury. There was a scrape on her cheek but it didn’t look deep. She’d washed her hair— there might be an injury there. A quick visual survey wasn’t going to be enough. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she checked every inch of her. But first, she had to touch her.

“Thank you, Agent,” Cam said to Ramsey without taking her eyes off Blair. “You can finish your shift outside in the hall now that I’m home.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ramsey said, and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Blair slid her arms around Cam’s neck, pressed close, and kissed her. “Interesting outfit. I always knew you wanted to be a soldier.”

Cam rested her cheek against Blair’s head and chuckled. “And here I thought you’d find it sexy.”

“What I find sexy is you naked in bed. Although the BDU’s are a nice touch.” Blair ran her fingers through Cam’s hair and stroked the back of her neck. “How are you?”

“Glad to be home.” Cam searched Blair’s eyes, looking for traces of pain, and skimmed her thumb over Blair’s chin. “You haven’t been to bed.”

“I’ve been working. Lost track of time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re one to talk,” Blair griped, backing up and capturing Cam’s hand. She tugged her arm, then stopped abruptly when Cam winced. “What?”

“Too much time on airplanes in the last—”

“Don’t even try.” Eyes flashing, Blair pulled Cam’s shirt out of her BDUs and lifted it with both hands as high as her breasts. Then she saw the swath of bluish-purple running from Cam’s left shoulder to her right hip. “God damn it.”

“Seat belt. It’s nothing.”

Blair held up her hand to stop the words that she didn’t want to hear. “What else?”

“Nothing more. We had an accident on the road.” Cam sucked in a breath when Blair growled. “Okay. Someone took out a prison van with the man I wanted to interrogate inside. We drove right into the blast and it flipped our SUV. I got banged up. Bumps and bruises.” Cam cradled Blair’s face and forced Blair to meet her eyes. “Nothing more, I swear.”

“You can swear all you want. Get your ass into the bedroom.”

Blair pulled away and went to retrieve the phone.

Cam frowned as Blair punched in numbers. “What—”

“Emory?” Blair said, ignoring Cam. “I’m sorry to get you up so early. What? Oh, good. Could you please come up here and take a look at Cam… Thanks.”

Blair wasn’t surprised to see Dana with Emory when she opened the door. As she let them in, she said, “Hi, Emory, Cam’s in the bedroom. Down the hall past the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

“Morning,” Dana said, waiting just inside the door to gauge her reception. She half expected Blair to tell her to leave, but she had come here to get the real story behind the woman, and this was the story. She’d been on her way back to the bedroom after her shower when she ran into Emory on her way out. Emory hadn’t been happy about her tagging along, but she could hardly say no.

“Everyone’s up early, I see,” Blair said, taking in Dana’s wet hair.

“Long days make for short nights, sometimes. How’s the deputy director?”

Blair gave her a long look. “She’s tired. Long day.”

“I’ve wondered sometimes,” Dana said, hooking her thumb over the edge of her jeans pocket, “who protects the protectors. Last night, watching you wait for hours for some word, I could only guess how frustrating, how agonizing, it had to be. But you were just waiting your turn to act, weren’t you. Now it’s your turn to stand guard.”

“She’s my lover. I’m not doing anything special.”

“I don’t mean to disagree, Ms. Powell,” Dana said, “but you taking care of her goes beyond the private and personal. She’s a deputy director in the OHS. What she does is important to a great many people on a great many levels. Like you, she’s important because of who she is and what she does.”

“I know that.” Blair glanced in the direction that Emory had gone. “I don’t want Cam’s position profiled in this article. I don’t want her made into a target.”

“I think everyone in the country, probably in a good part of the world, knows who she is. You don’t seriously think your relationship is a secret?”

“Of course not. We’ve made public statements, but that doesn’t mean I want to call attention to what she does. Just keep the news focused on the issue of gay marriage.”

“While it’s true what you’re doing is important in terms of raising social consciousness,” Dana said, “the public is much more interested in people, rather than issues—especially people who appear to lead charmed lives.”

“Charmed.” Blair laughed shortly. “That’s not a word I would’ve chosen.”

“What would you have chosen?” Dana asked.

“Indentured.” When Dana’s eyebrows rose, Blair added hastily, “And no, you can’t quote that.”

“You don’t give me a lot to print.”

“Print this. Cameron Roberts is a devoted public servant and a loving partner, and she has never neglected one for the other, sometimes at great cost to herself.” Blair sighed and shook her head. “And now, I need to go and check on her.”

“Thank you,” Dana called after her, wondering how it would feel to have a woman love her that intensely. She’d never quite imagined it, never thought she wanted it. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Hey,” Blair said as she slipped into the bedroom. Shirtless, Cam sat on the side of the bed in just her sweatpants. Emory stood by her side.

“Hi.” Cam stood, reaching for a T-shirt draped over a nearby chair. Her movements, Blair noticed, were slow and careful.

“How is she?” Blair asked Emory.

“I’m working at a disadvantage here. Without even a stethoscope,” Emory said with a shake of her head, “I can’t exactly say anything definitive. But I haven’t seen or heard anything that makes me too worried.”

Cam slipped her arm around Blair’s waist and kissed her temple. “Like I said. Bumps and bruises.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t asking you.” Blair kept her attention on Emory. “You don’t think she needs x-rays or anything?”

“I’m not exactly a country doctor who can divine illnesses from the laying on of hands, you know. I’m a researcher, and I haven’t treated patients in almost ten years.” Emory glanced at Cam. “But unless you’re underplaying your symptoms, I think some rest and anti-inflammatories are all you need.”

“I’m not minimizing anything,” Cam said. “I’m not going to be moving at my normal pace for a couple of days, but I don’t feel like there’s anything serious going on.”

“Can she fly?” Blair asked.

“Tomorrow,” Emory said. “Not today. I just want to be sure that those sore ribs aren’t going to lead to any kind of problem.”

Blair rubbed Cam’s back, afraid to hug her. “Today you sleep. Tomorrow we’re going to Colorado. For vacation.”

Cam said nothing for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay. As long as—”

“Uh-uh,” Blair said with a vigorous shake of her head. “No buts, no contingencies. We’re going. We’re getting married in a week, and I want everyone to relax and enjoy themselves for a few days first.”

“All right,” Cam said. “I’ll talk to Stark and make sure the advance team is prepared.”

“I already did that,” Blair said.

“Did you?” Cam grinned. “Then I guess it’s all decided.”

Blair kissed her. “Guess so.”

“Why is it that no one around here can keep normal hours?”

Dana spun around at the sound of Diane’s voice and, catching sight of Diane coming from the room opposite where Blair had disappeared, swallowed hard. Diane wore a pale blue silk robe closed with a sash looped carelessly at her waist. Her hair framed her face in careless disarray, the gold tips brushing her neck as she glided forward on bare feet. She was so very obviously naked beneath the thin silk, and so effortlessly seductive, that Dana responded out of pure instinct. She pictured her tongue following the trail of those silky strands as they wafted back and forth over the soft skin of Diane’s neck. She felt the weight of Diane’s breast in her hand and the plump firmness of her nipple under her thumb. As soon as the images registered in her conscious mind, she jerked her gaze away. And discovered Emory and Blair, who had returned while she was lost in the Siren’s call, watching her. Emory immediately looked away, but not before Dana saw what looked like anger eclipse her features. Perfect. Caught literally drooling over another woman, and one who was clearly involved on top of it. Hell.

“Well,” Diane said, breezing by on her way toward the kitchen. “Is someone going to enlighten me as to the cause of this outrageously early gathering?”

Blair leaned against the breakfast counter. “Cam is back. Emory was just taking a look at her.”

“Oh, good,” Diane said with a sigh, sliding onto one of the stools next to Blair. She grasped Blair’s hand. “And how is she?”

“She’s good,” Blair said, her voice softening. “She’s good.”

“And what about Renee?”

“Cam said she sent her home to bed and gave Stark orders to see that she stays there.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem.” Diane smiled. “Maybe now things can get back to normal.”

Blair snorted. “Is Valerie with you?”

“No. She’s…wherever…doing whatever.”

While Blair and Diane talked, Dana followed Emory into the sitting area. She pointed to the empty spot next to Emory on the sofa. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Emory said quietly, “go ahead.”

Emory was still wearing the sweatpants Blair had loaned her and had thrown the blouse she’d had on the day before over the tank top, leaving it unbuttoned. Dana couldn’t help but notice the curve of her breasts and the slight swell of her nipples beneath the thin layers. Diane Bleeker was a beautiful woman and any lesbian would have to be dead not to notice. But looking at Diane had not stirred her blood the way the sight of Emory, dark circles under her eyes, in baggy sweatpants and a rumpled blouse, did. Dana not only wasn’t dead, she had been struggling with simmering, unfocused arousal for hours. That restless need had crystallized when Emory had innocently caressed her face, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about touching her. “Is everything okay?”

“More or less. Things are finally calming down around here.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you earlier,” Dana said.

Emory regarded her curiously. “Which time?”

Dana smiled ruefully. “I don’t know. Every time?”

“You haven’t done anything you need to apologize for. You certainly don’t have to explain what you do or why you do it to me.” She started to rise. “I’m going to try and get a little sleep.”

“Do you want me to stay up here?”

Emory glanced across the room at Diane, and then quickly away. “That’s entirely up to you.”

Dana stood up quickly, blocking Emory’s path to the door. “I’m not interested in Diane Bleeker.”

“I think that’s really good,” Emory said, avoiding Dana’s eyes. “Because I think Valerie would shoot you.”

“I was just caught off guard there for a second when she…when I saw—”

“Don’t. For God’s sake, do you think I need to know why the sight of a beautiful woman arouses you?”

“It doesn’t,” Dana snapped. “Well, it does. Sometimes. Jesus.” She lowered her voice. “It certainly did an hour ago. Downstairs with you.”

“We had a deal, remember?” Emory sidled around her.

“That was a no-touch deal. Not a no-talk-about-it deal.”

Emory looked into Dana’s eyes. “I’m expanding the parameters of our agreement.”

“Why?”

“Because. I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time.”

Dana smiled. “That’s okay, I do.”

“Just concentrate on writing your article without jeopardizing Blair or Cam, okay?”

“I’m not going to jeopardize them.” Dana gripped her hand. “You said you were going to trust me. Did you forget about that too?”

Emory looked down at their joined hands and brushed her thumb over the top of Dana’s fingers. “I remember.”

A soon as Emory pulled her hand away, Dana wanted it back again. The tiny bit of contact made her almost dizzy. “Emory.”

A knock on the door prevented Emory from answering as everyone turned in that direction. Blair crossed the room and asked who was there.

“It’s Valerie.”

A look that Dana interpreted as worry, followed by resignation, crossed Blair’s face just before she opened the door.

Valerie stepped inside, her eyes going first to Diane, then settling on Blair. “I’m very sorry to disturb you. I need to speak with the deputy director.”

“She’s resting,” Blair said. “Can’t it wait?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.”

“Valerie,” Blair said so quietly Dana almost didn’t hear her. “She needs a few hours—”

Cam appeared from around the corner of the partition separating the kitchen from the bedroom beyond. “I’m awake.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be,” Blair said, rounding on her sharply.

“I’m still a little too wound up to sleep anyhow.” She slipped her arm around Blair’s shoulder and squeezed briefly. Then she turned to Valerie, her entire body instantly on alert. “Do you need me downstairs?”

Valerie scanned the room. “Here is fine, if we could talk alone for a few minutes.”

“Let’s go in the other room.” Cam led Valerie down the hall and they disappeared.

Silence fell and no one moved. Blair looked like she wanted to follow Cam, but didn’t. Dana definitely wasn’t leaving unless someone ordered her to. Then Emory sat back down on the sofa.

“Well,” Diane said with a sigh, “I guess I might as well get dressed.”

Blair braced both arms on the granite countertop and lowered her head. After a pause, she looked up, her face composed. “I’ll make coffee.”

Chapter Seventeen

“What have you got?” Cam didn’t want to give in to the pain in her chest and right side. Compromising, she sat on the side of the bed because standing upright hurt enough to be distracting, and she needed to focus on what Valerie was about to tell her. Although Valerie’s ivory blouse and black slacks were barely wrinkled, Cam doubted she’d been to bed at all in thirty-six hours. “Sit down. You look beat.”

“Are you hurt badly?” Valerie asked, shaking her head when Cam indicated a nearby chair.

Cam relayed the details of the event. “Early and the van driver are dead. Renee and I are still walking around, but the two local agents with us both ended up in surgery.”

“Matheson? Or friendly fire?”

Cam smiled bitterly. “What’s your guess?”

Valerie folded her arms under her breasts and leaned back against the wall. “Considering the time frame—less than twelve hours from the time you made arrangements to interview him and your arrival there? I’d put my money on the Company.”

“If you’re right, that means our communications are completely transparent. Probably someone in DC is monitoring our reports and requests.”

“Unless of course you’ve got a Company mole inside your team.”

Cam regarded Valerie steadily. “We don’t.”

“You trust me?”

“I do. And so do the others.” Cam suspected from the strain in Valerie’s eyes that she’d been driving herself hard searching for some clue as to who might have been behind the most recent attack.

“What do you suggest we do about locking down our security?” Valerie asked.

“We don’t go outside our team for anything. We fly private. We drive rental cars. We use our own people or Tanner’s people if we need backup.”

Valerie rubbed her arms as if she were cold. “I think…”

“What?”

“You might consider sending disinformation to Washington.”

“You’re suggesting that I mislead the White House chief of staff and the president’s security adviser?”

“That’s what I would do, but I’m not sure that my advice is good for your career.” Valerie smiled thinly. “I’m not exactly trained to work inside the system.”

Cam laughed. “My career path has been a bit uncertain since the moment I saw Blair Powell. And since September, it’s the last thing I’m worried about. Right now, I agree with you—we don’t know who we can trust, so the best course is to trust no one except each other.” She rotated her shoulder and tried to rub some of the stiffness out of her left arm. “You came down here with news, I take it.”

“The FBI has been watching a suspected cell in the Buffalo area for the last six months. Reports show an increase in activity since September,” Valerie said.

“What kind of activity?”

“New faces turning up, more phone calls, and a rash of Internet communications in the last few weeks.”

“How’d we get this?”

“You wanted us pulling intelligence from all sectors on suspected domestic activity, and when reports from this area went hot, Felicia started monitoring everything coming out of the local field office up there. When several cell members made calls to the same number, the FBI started monitoring that number on the theory it belonged to the ringleader. Last night whoever is using the target phone called someone in Virginia.”

“Virginia. After the prison van was hit.”

“That’s right. Possibly unrelated.”

Cam knew there had to be more. “Did we get a fix on who was called?”

Valerie shook her head, obviously frustrated. “No. Cell phones. We got as far as the local tower, but no trace after that.”

“But we know where the tower’s located?”

“Felicia’s got that. It’s not much of a lead, but we know Matheson has connections in that area.”

“It’s more than we’ve had. Let’s see if we can narrow down the location.” Cam stood. “Pull addresses and property records on Matheson’s family, his academy graduates, any and all known associates, the detainees from the raid on his compound, and known patriot members. Look for anything within a hundred-mile radius of that tower.”

When Cam started toward the hall, Valerie stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You should get some sleep.”

“I’m good for a couple more hours.”

“Maybe, but you look like hell.” Valerie laughed quietly when Cam frowned. “And Blair’s been up all night. Waiting to hear about your status was rough on her. Chances are we won’t come up with anything, and if we do, it’s going to take more than a couple of hours. Felicia knows what to do until you get there, but I’ll go over your directives with her.”

Cam closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Blair wants to leave for Colorado tomorrow. If we’re closing in on Matheson, I need to be here.”

“All the more reason to spend some time with her now. Take a few hours.”

Cam glanced at the bedside clock. “I’ll be down by noon.”

“I’ll clear everyone out of here so you two can get some rest.”

“You should take a break yourself,” Cam said.

“As soon as I go over things with Felicia.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, you know.”

“I know.”

“Thanks for handling everything here last night,” Cam said, relenting and sitting back down on the bed. “And thank you for looking after Blair.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Valerie smiled wryly. “And Blair doesn’t want anyone except you to look after her.”

“All the same, thank you for keeping her safe.”

“You can always count on us to do that.” Valerie paused. “But you can’t keep doing this to her, Cameron.”

Valerie left and Cam slowly removed her clothes. She lay back and closed her eyes, but she couldn’t obliterate the memory of Blair’s torment and the knowledge that she had been the cause of it.

Dana sat on the arm of the sofa in her temporary apartment watching Emory gather her things. “You could always stay here, you know, until we leave tomorrow. You wouldn’t have to pay for another night at the hotel.”

Emory folded the sweats and T-shirt that she’d borrowed from Blair and stacked them on a nearby chair. She wore another outfit of Blair’s, jeans and a dark green sweater, for the trip back to her hotel. She’d had to roll the cuffs of the jeans several times to make up for the difference in their height. “That’s probably not a great idea. Would you mind returning these to Blair later today?”

“Sure. Why is it not a good idea?”

“Are you intentionally being dense?”

Dana grinned. “I try not to make assumptions.”

Emory cut her a look. “There’s something very strange going on between us, and I think it’s better if we get a little distance.”

“It’s called attraction,” Dana said completely seriously, “and I don’t think distance is the answer.”

“What is the answer?”

“Ordinarily, I’d suggest a date,” Dana said, “but I’m here on assignment and my schedule, as you might have noticed, is constantly changing. I can’t very well take you out to dinner when Blair might decide she wants to hop a plane to Colorado.”

Emory shrugged. “You’re right. Bad timing.” She collected her purse and grabbed her coat out of the closet by the door. “Besides, I don’t date women.”

“Yet.”

“You are remarkably sure of yourself.” Emory thought she should probably be annoyed, but she wasn’t really. Part of her wanted to stay exactly where she was. Actually, part of her very much wanted Dana to kiss her. And that was why she knew she should leave.

“I’m not sure of anything where you’re concerned,” Dana said, moving closer. She took Emory’s coat and held it for her. When Emory turned to slip her arms into it, Dana pressed against her back, rubbing her hands over Emory’s shoulders and down her arms. She put her mouth close to Emory’s ear. “But I know the last thing I want is distance between us.” She skimmed Emory’s hair back with the tips of her fingers, exposing her neck, and kissed her softly behind the ear. “If you stay here, we can get to know each other better.”

Emory shivered and closed her eyes, glad that Dana couldn’t see her face because she wouldn’t be able to hide what that kiss had done to her. She leaned her back into the front of Dana’s body and felt Dana’s hands tighten on her arms. Dana’s breath blew hot and fast against her skin. “You’re breaking the no-touch rule.”

“I know,” Dana whispered, her voice husky. “I’m sorry. I stood it as long as I could. God, you smell good.”

“It’s Ivory soap.” Emory laughed shakily.

“Don’t ever wear anything else.” Dana slid her arms around Emory’s waist and slipped her hands inside Emory’s coat, pulling Emory more tightly against her.

Dana’s hands rested on the sweater covering Emory’s abdomen, and Emory could easily imagine those bold and possessive hands on her skin. She couldn’t remember ever wanting to be kissed more than she did at that moment, and she worried that she was allowing herself to be attracted to Dana’s attraction to her. Dana was, after all, infuriatingly charming and relentlessly sexy. “I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” Dana said quietly, turning Emory to face her. She put her hands back inside Emory’s coat, resting them on her waist just above her hips. She ran her thumbs up and down Emory’s abdomen. “But I don’t want to go to bed with you.”

“You don’t?” Emory had a hard time focusing on anything except the fiercely intent expression in Dana’s eyes and the pleasure that spiraled from beneath Dana’s hands into her depths. She was horribly, terribly aroused and frighteningly close to letting something happen she would regret. And she couldn’t seem to stop.

“No,” Dana murmured. “This is what I want.”

As Dana leaned closer, Emory knew she was about to be kissed, but the reality was nothing like she had expected. True, Dana’s mouth was soft and hot and certain, but Dana was surprisingly patient. She took her time, teasing Emory with the tip of her tongue, waiting for Emory to kiss her back. Caught off guard by the gentle invitation, Emory responded, stroking over the surface of Dana’s lips and tongue because it just felt so damn good. She clasped a hand behind Dana’s neck and sank into her, moving against her in a way completely foreign to her and so completely right. She pulled away from the kiss and struggled to control her out-of-control body. “I don’t…I can’t…”

“Shh,” Dana said as she caressed Emory’s cheek. Her hand trembled. “We’re not. It’s okay.” She kissed her again, slowly, and drew back. Her chest heaved and she fought to steady her breathing. “I was thinking we could start simple. You know, with a kiss or two.”

Emory nodded dumbly, trying to envision kissing her—just kissing—without bursting into flames. Well, she’d never been afraid of a challenge. “Okay. Yes. That sounds reasonable.”

Dana grinned. “Reasonable.”

“You suggested it,” Emory said hotly. “So don’t look so damn supercilious.”

“Hey,” Dana said, raising both hands in surrender. There was no reason Emory had to know she wanted her so badly she ached all over. She needed to get a grip on her runaway libido just as much as Emory needed time to get comfortable with hers. Then they could have a nice, adult interaction with no one getting disappointed or hurt. “I agree. Reasonable is good.”

“You agree?” Emory asked suspiciously.

“I do. Absolutely. How about I walk you back to your hotel. You can tell me all about tissue engineering on the way.”

“All right, but that doesn’t mean I’m coming back here later.”

“I promise. No expectations.” Dana just had to figure out how to convince her body of that.

Blair pulled the shades and stripped by the side of the bed. Slipping under the sheets, she turned on her side to face Cam. She stroked Cam’s hair and kissed her cheek. “Valerie ordered everyone out, and me to bed.”

“And you listened?” Cam teased.

“I could hardly disagree.” Blair snuggled closer, drawing one leg over Cam’s thigh. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. The Motrin kicked in.” Cam urged Blair down into the position they normally slept in, with Blair’s cheek on Cam’s shoulder, and kissed her forehead. “Both of us could stand to get some sleep.”

Blair smoothed her hand over Cam’s chest and down the center of her abdomen. “What did Valerie need to see you about?”

Cam hesitated, her natural instinct not to worry Blair surfacing even as she knew what she had to do. What Blair needed her to do. “We got a little bit of a break. We might have a lead as to Matheson’s whereabouts.”

“What will you do if you find him?”

Blair’s tone was casual, but Cam felt her tense and the hand that had been playing over her abdomen grew still. “We’ll go after him.”

“We?”

“The last time I shared our intelligence, someone warned him and he slipped through our net.” Cam couldn’t keep the fury from her voice. “That’s not going to happen again.”

“But I thought that was because Valerie’s handler was working with Matheson and tipped him off. There’s no way that can happen again.”

Cam sighed. “No, that particular leak has been taken care of. But I can’t trust that he was the only one who wanted Matheson to succeed, and what happened yesterday afternoon makes me suspect Matheson has more friends on the inside than we realize.”

Blair sat up so she could look directly into Cam’s face. And so that Cam could see hers. “I understand, I really do. I know he has to be stopped. I know how badly you want to stop him.” What she had to ask next—opening herself, revealing herself—went against every instinct and everything she was, but she did it without hesitation. Cam meant that much to her. “I need it not to be you who goes after him. Please, Cam. Send someone else.”

“Ah, baby,” Cam murmured. She wanted him dead, but she could live with him behind bars. What she couldn’t live with was him free to come after Blair again or help orchestrate another savage attack that could cost hundreds, possibly thousands of lives. Matheson and everything he represented was the reason she did what she did. In many ways, fighting men like him made her who she was. Valerie’s voice played in her mind. You can’t keep doing this to her, Cameron.

For as long as she could remember, Cam had relied on her duty to give her a sense of purpose and meaning, even in the darkest moments. After Janet had been killed and she’d been tormented by guilt, when she’d felt dead inside and disconnected from everything in her life, her duty and Valerie’s humanity had been her only salvation. She was not that person any longer, and she had other duties, perhaps even a greater duty, beyond that to her country. “We have no evidence that he has a large force with him. Hopefully I’ll only need a small team to apprehend him.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll put Savard in charge.”

“And you won’t go?”

Cam took Blair’s hand. “I won’t go.”

Blair bowed her head and kissed Cam’s fingers. “Thank you.”

Cam shook her head. “Don’t thank me. I love you. You let Stark and her team protect you, and I know how much you hate it. You do that because I need it.”

“It doesn’t feel like the same thing.”

“It is.” Cam threaded her fingers through Blair’s hair and drew her back down beside her. She kissed her. “It’s exactly the same thing.”

“This love thing is really hard, isn’t it?” Blair murmured.

Cam laughed. “It is. But I wouldn’t change a thing.” She guided Blair on top of her and shifted her legs so their bodies melded. “And it definitely has its advantages.”

Blair skimmed her mouth over Cam’s breast. “Let me show you just how many.”

Chapter Eighteen

Renee found Paula working at the desk that used to be Cameron Roberts’s in the far corner of the command center. Other than the agent watching the monitors at the opposite end of the room, the place was empty. It was five p.m. on Saturday, after all, and the agents who were off-shift were probably either with their families or out enjoying themselves. She couldn’t remember a time when Saturday night had seemed any different than a weeknight. She and Paula hadn’t had an evening alone together since before 9/11. And they weren’t going to tonight, either.

“We got a hit,” Renee said. “I’ll be leaving soon. Probably won’t be back until late morning.”

Stark put her pen down and pushed the work aside without looking up. After a pause, she shifted slowly in her chair and looked up at Renee. “You’re heading the mission?”

Renee nodded. The OHS team routinely shared intelligence with Blair’s protection detail, especially when the information impacted the first daughter’s security. This mission didn’t, not yet, but they all had a stake in tracking Matheson down. Especially Paula. Renee didn’t want to worry her lover any more than necessary, but she’d already changed into her black camos and T-shirt. She wasn’t wearing her weapons yet, but Paula had to know what kind of operation was planned.

“Where?” Paula asked.

“Where we suspected. Virginia.”

“How many people are going with you?” Paula asked.

“Enough. All good people.” Renee checked that the other agent’s attention was occupied, then squatted down beside Paula’s chair and put her hand on her knee. “I won’t be able to call until it’s over, but I will as soon as I can.”

Paula held Renee’s hand in both of hers, her head bowed as if she were studying the surface of Renee’s fingers. She rubbed her thumb over Renee’s knuckles. “You’re okay? You didn’t get much sleep.”

Renee leaned closer. “I’m fine, sweetie. I hate for you to worry.”

“Make sure someone has your back, okay?” Paula raised her head, her eyes dark with thinly disguised anxiety. “Don’t be a hero.”

“I don’t plan to be.” Renee kissed her. “We’ve got more than enough of them around here already.”

“Okay then,” Paula said, forcing a smile. “So I’ll see you tomorrow sometime. We may be on our way to Colorado by the time you get back.”

Renee brushed her thumb over Paula’s cheek, then straightened. “Then I’ll see you on the slopes. Love you.”

“I love you too,” Paula murmured.

Renee turned and walked swiftly away, knowing that the best way for her to ease the worry in her lover’s eyes was to get the job done, get it done right, and come home. That was exactly what she intended to do.

Blair closed her book and dropped it onto the floor beside the couch. She could feel Cam’s tension from across the room. “Why don’t you go downstairs.”

“In a few minutes.” Cam leaned over and kissed Blair’s forehead. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“Actually, yes. You’re driving me crazy with your pacing.”

“I’m not pacing.”

“We’re going to have to have the floors resurfaced in front of the windows, darling. You’ve walked off the varnish.”

“Sorry,” Cam muttered.

“Sit for a second.” Blair patted the space next to her. They’d slept all morning, then Cam had showered and gone to the command center. She’d come back a little over an hour before so they could eat dinner together. Cam tried to hide it, but Blair could tell she was distracted. “You’re sending a team out, aren’t you?”

Cam settled next to her and leaned her head back. “Yes.”

“Is it big?”

“We might have Matheson’s safe house.”

Blair tensed. “How?”

“Felicia tracked a suspect cell phone call to the Norfolk area. We found a property in the tower radius owned by a man named Jeremy Barton. He’s the son of an Army buddy of Matheson’s. We’re hoping Matheson is there.”

“Did Lucinda call in the special ops?”

“Not this time,” Cam hedged, since Lucinda didn’t know about the operation. No one did. “We’re going in fast and light. Just our people and some of Tanner’s.”

“Is Tanner here?” Blair knew her childhood friend employed a security force that was made up of ex-military people, and after seeing them in action she began to suspect that Whitley Industries had more involvement in what was happening in the Middle East than she had ever realized.

“Not Tanner. She flew Steph down with a couple of men.”

“What if Matheson is there and he’s got a force with him?”

Cam shook her head. “We’ve got satellite images—no cars, no real signs of activity for the last five hours. He knows we know who he is, and I expect he’s doing everything he can to stay under the radar. I doubt he’s going to have direct contact with any of his people, because he’s got to know we’re looking at everyone he’s ever been associated with. A lone man is the hardest to track.”

“When will you know?”

“Our team will arrive around midnight.”

“God, another sleepless night.”

Cam pulled Blair closer, settling her in the curve of her body. “If this operation is still ongoing in the morning, you’ll have to leave without me.”

“That’s not happening.” Blair ran her finger down Cam’s arm. Usually Cam dressed for work in a dress shirt and tailored pants, even when she spent the day in the OHS offices downstairs. Today she’d worn jeans and a faded blue cotton shirt. She looked sexy in either outfit, but Blair realized how rarely Cam was off duty these days. She wasn’t leaving for Colorado without her because she wasn’t entirely certain that Cam wouldn’t become wrapped up in something else that absolutely needed her attention and forget to come. “I’ll wait.”

“I know it’s a bad time—”

“It is what it is, Cam,” Blair said, surprised to find that she wasn’t angry. Oh, she was outraged at the uncertainty and vulnerability they all lived with every day, but she certainly wasn’t upset with her lover for doing what had to be done. “I’m sorry this is so hard for you. The waiting.”

Cam grimaced. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this deputy director job. It doesn’t feel right sending my people out on a mission while I stay here.”

Blair laced her fingers through Cam’s. “I know you’re doing this for me, and I appreciate it. But—”

“I don’t want you to thank me. We’ve already been over that.”

“I wasn’t going to thank you.” Blair gave Cam’s hand a shake. “I was going to point out that my father thinks you’re the right person for this job, and Lucinda agrees, and so do I. And not just because I don’t want you in the field.” She rested her chin against the tip of Cam’s shoulder and circled Cam’s waist with both arms. “One person can’t fix this, darling, you know that. But you have a team that might be able to.”

“That’s right. My team. My people.” Cam sighed. “I should be there to have their backs.”

“You do have their backs, by sending the best to do the job. You’re the team leader. You hold them all together.”

Cam rested her forehead against Blair’s. “It’s a lot easier to do than to stay behind and worry.”

Blair laughed and shook her head. “That’s something you don’t have to tell me, my love.”

“I’m sorry for that.” Cam buried her face in Blair’s hair. “I just hate watching.”

Blair felt Cam tremble and was instantly alert. This wasn’t fear— Cam never gave in to fear. This was something deeper. “Hey, hey.” She tightened her grip. “What is it?”

After a pause, Cam said so quietly Blair could barely hear her,

“I keep thinking of that night when Janet was undercover and the operation went to hell. All I could do was watch while the trap closed around her. By the time I got to her…”

“Oh, baby.” Blair stroked Cam’s hair. Cam rarely talked about the night Janet, a narcotics detective and Cam’s on-again, off-again lover, was killed, but she knew the story. At least the details Cam had been able to share. Janet had been undercover, and somehow, the federal agents and the local detectives had failed to coordinate a raid on a warehouse where drugs were being exchanged for counterfeit money. Janet had been caught in the crossfire and killed. Cam had been shot trying to get her out. “Is that why you’re always the first to stand in front of the bullets?”

“Believe me, I don’t have a death wish,” Cam said. “I’m just doing my job.”

Cam’s voice was muffled against her neck, but Blair could hear the pain. “I know. But no one wants you to protect them at the cost of your life.” She rubbed Cam’s back and tried not to think about Cam taking the bullet that was meant for her. “Especially not me or any of the members of your team.”

“No one’s going to be doing any dying,” Cam said, straightening up. “I’m sending them in with a satellite link to the command center. I’ll have audio and video, and at the first sign of trouble, I’ll pull them out. If Matheson so much as points a squirt gun in their direction, he’s a dead man.”

Blair smiled as cold, hard fury settled in the pit of her stomach. “That sounds like a perfect plan. Especially the last part.”

“I need to go.” Cam kissed Blair. “Thanks. Thanks for letting me get that out.”

“Anytime. I love you.” Blair squeezed Cam’s shoulder, then gave her a little shove. “So go take care of your people.”

“Explain to me again the part about the…extracellular matrix stuff,” Dana said. Without raising her head, she scribbled in a tattered brown leather notebook with one hand and reached out with her right for her coffee cup.

Emory slid the glass mug closer to Dana’s fingers, noticing again the faint roughness to her fingertips. Several of her knuckles were marked with small healing lacerations. “What happened to your hands?”

“Hmm?” Dana looked up, surprised to see that the Starbucks had filled up sometime during the last hour. She’d been too busy getting down everything Emory explained about tissue engineering and stem cell differentiation to even notice. She hadn’t expected the impromptu interview, and she didn’t want to miss a single sentence. Her research had indicated Emory was considered one of the world’s authorities in tissue engineering, but she was just now beginning to understand how significant that really was. Emory’s work could lead to a means of growing organs in the laboratory for tissue transplantation. “So you could grow a kidney, and someone wouldn’t have to wait for a donor, right?” Dana pushed a thick lock of hair off her forehead and absently sipped her cold coffee. “Or, Jesus, a heart. Right?”

“Theoretically, yes.” Emory smiled at Dana’s intensity. She’d never before experienced the kind of pleasure she had gotten over the last hour describing her work to Dana. She hadn’t thought she’d had an ego, but every time Dana complimented her, she felt a rush of heat.

“That could be big, right?” Dana said. “I mean really big. Like Nobel Prize big, right? It could change the entire face of transplant surgery.”

Emory covered Dana’s hand, which was clenched around her now forgotten coffee cup. “We’re a long ways away from that kind of territory yet.”

Dana frowned. “I don’t get why anyone would object to your research.”

“I understand some of the objections, theoretically at least,” Emory said. “Any scientific tool—any kind of tool at all, really—has a potential for misuse. Look at nuclear power. If appropriately harnessed, the power of the atom could free us from dependency on natural oil and gas. But what’s the first thing we make? Bombs so huge, so devastating, they can destroy entire cities and hundreds of thousands of lives.” Emory shrugged. “There are those who think today a kidney, tomorrow an infant. And then…” She quickly grew serious. “There are some who feel that what we’re doing is an affront against God, or an abomination of nature, or just plain egomaniacal. There are lots of arguments. I’m sure you know them.”

“People can get pretty wound up about those issues,” Dana said casually.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Did you know the person who attacked you in Boston?”

“No, he wasn’t…” Emory stopped suddenly and pulled her hand out from under Dana’s. “Why are you doing this? Why are you using what’s happening between us to take advantage of me?”

“How am I doing that?”

“By treating me like a story.”

“You are a story. You, Emory. You.” Dana’s expression darkened and when she leaned forward, her eyes sparked with anger. “Don’t you get it, Emory? If you’re in danger, publicizing it makes you safer. Letting the world know you’re a target for hatemongers and zealots will force the foundation to give you more security. It will make local law enforcement agents more alert the next time you step onto a stage. You’re an important person. Maybe one of the most important people in the world. What part of that don’t you get?”

“I don’t need you to worry about my safety.”

“Well, that’s just fine, but I already do.” Dana reached across the table and grabbed Emory’s hand. “And I happen to like holding your hand. I happen to like you a lot.”

“I don’t like you using the fact that I like you.” Emory kept her voice down even though she wanted to yell. “Is that why you kissed me earlier? Because you know it makes me stupid and senseless?”

“How can a simple little kiss make you stupid?”

“I don’t know,” Emory hissed, “but it does. I can’t think. All I can do is feel how hot your mouth is and how soft your lips are and how much I want you to keep kissing me. The tips of your fingers are rough, did you know that? I think about you rubbing them—” She closed her eyes. “Oh my God. Now I don’t even have to kiss you and I lose my mind.”

All the air left Dana’s chest as her stomach did a slow somersault. She knew Emory wasn’t trying to seduce her. In fact, it sounded like the last thing in the world Emory wanted was for something to happen between them. But just thinking about Emory wanting to be kissed—wanting to be kissed by her—was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. “It’s a damn good thing we’re sitting in a coffee shop right now.”

Emory opened her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I want to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed, and I don’t want to stop until we’re both naked and I’m inside you and I can watch you come.”

“I really haven’t thought beyond kisses,” Emory whispered. “So you might want to back up a step or two.”

Dana grinned, but her legs were shaking. If she’d been standing up, she might’ve fallen down. “I’m not using you, Emory. Yes, I want to write about you and what you do. But it’s more than that. I want to know you. I want to know why you do it.” She pulled her chair around the side of the small, round pedestal table until they were side by side. She kissed the side of Emory’s neck. “I want to know what pleases you. What frightens you. What makes you happy.” She turned Emory’s face to hers and kissed her on the lips. “I want to make love to you.”

Emory traced her fingers over Dana’s mouth. “You have such beautiful lips. But I’m not ready to have an orgasm in a coffee shop.”

“I was thinking we would probably wait until we were in bed.”

Emory laughed. She wished they were alone so she could curl up in Dana’s lap and kiss her and be kissed, and touch her and be touched. Her body had never felt so alive. “I’m glad we’re not alone right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I think I would let you take me to bed, and I’m not ready for that.” She laughed again, her voice shaking as much as her insides. “Well, at least not all of me is ready.”

“Okay.” Dana eased away but kept Emory’s hand in hers. “No orgasms tonight. But will you come back with me? Just stay in the apartment with me. I promise I won’t ask you any questions.”

Emory looked down at Dana’s hand and ran her thumb over the scratches. Then she looked into Dana’s eyes. “What if I want to ask you questions?”

Dana wanted to say no, but how could she ask for what she wasn’t willing to give? She nodded. “All right. But I have one stipulation.”

Emory quirked an eyebrow.

“You did agree earlier that a kiss or two would be a reasonable expectation on my part.”

“One or two.” Emory appeared to be considering it. “As long you promise not to get greedy.”

“I’m not usually greedy by nature,” Dana said. But where Emory was concerned, all bets were off.

Cam stared at the monitor, which provided a still image of the country house and the surrounding grounds where they believed Matheson had gone to ground. No lights, no vehicle in the drive. She clenched her jaw as Savard’s voice came over her radio feed.

Place looks deserted, Commander.

“Deploy your teams,” Cam told her. The satellite image wasn’t precise enough, especially at night, for her to track the movement of individual team members, and as the minutes dragged on the muscles in her neck screamed from tension. She should have been there. What if word of their plans had gotten out somehow? What if there was an ambush? What if she was wrong and Matheson had laid in a force like the cadre that had hit the Aerie?

Nothing, Savard reported. The bastard’s like smoke.

Cam closed her eyes. Where the hell was he? Matheson on the move was going to be twice as hard to locate and three times as dangerous.

Matheson passed through Cumberland, Virginia, and headed north on Route 220 into Pennsylvania at 4:10 a.m. Right on schedule, he noted with satisfaction. The rental car that had been delivered to his safe house a little before midnight was appropriately nondescript, the kind of midsize low-budget sedan any businessman might drive. When he pulled into the parking lot of the Denny’s restaurant, there were a dozen others like it parked nearby. He got out and stretched, then made his way beneath the still-dark sky to his hastily arranged meeting.

He stopped just inside the door, pretending to survey the newspapers in the coin-operated boxes while scanning the area. Considering the hour, the restaurant was more crowded than he had expected with truckers and travelers heading north to the turnpike. All the better. In his bland khaki jacket, dark trousers, and tab-collar blue shirt, all purchased in the men’s department of a low-end chain store, he doubted any of the busy waitresses would remember him in an hour. That might not be the case for the man he was meeting, which was why he detested doing business in public places. However, the alternative—a clandestine rendezvous—was unacceptable when he couldn’t bring backup. Here, at least, he was unlikely to be targeted if his friends decided he was no longer useful. Of course, he was under the same constraints himself, but he had no doubt that when the time came to eliminate any unwanted associates, his men would rise to the occasion.

“Breakfast for one?” a careworn blonde asked him as she automatically handed him a shiny laminated menu.

He took the menu and smiled. “Thanks, I’ll just grab a booth if that’s okay. My business partner just ducked into the john.”

“Sure, go ahead,” she said, already turning away.

Matheson settled into the bench seat of one of the smaller booths facing the door and ordered two coffees, giving the waitress who barely looked at him the same story. A minute later, another traveler entered, took a quick look around the room, and walked directly to Matheson’s table. Dressed in casual business clothes, he too would have gone unnoticed as easily as Matheson if he hadn’t been so obviously foreign. Matheson resented the necessity of working with nonwhite men, finding them inherently untrustworthy and lacking in true moral character. But war demanded that men sacrifice, and the cause sometimes necessitated unusual alliances. This one had so far proven valuable.

“Good morning, my friend,” the dark-skinned man said as he sat down across from Matheson. His English was even less noticeably accented than it had been on the phone.

“Morning,” Matheson said, taking a sip of his coffee. Weak, just like all diner coffee. “While I’m always happy to be of service, I’m afraid my schedule is very tight today.”

“Yes, I imagine you have a plane to catch, do you not?”

Matheson’s gut tightened, but he knew the man was fishing. No one except his most trusted man knew his destination was the Pittsburgh airport. “I didn’t expect we would meet again.”

“While our previous venture was successful beyond our greatest expectations, circumstances have changed since last we talked.”

Matheson managed not to smirk. Yes, things had certainly changed. The country had gone on red alert and the military was kicking terrorist ass in Afghanistan. Soon, the U.S. would make its presence felt in other parts of the Middle East, he was certain. The show of force wasn’t enough, but it was a beginning. He contained his smile and waited.

“The item of mutual interest,” the man said smoothly, pushing his coffee cup aside untouched. “We no longer wish to divest ourselves of it.” He spread his hands as if he were discussing motor parts and not the first daughter of the United States. “We believe it has value in our forthcoming negotiations.”

Matheson leaned back casually, thinking furiously. Eliminating Blair Powell had always been his main agenda, but only a side note for these men. Why, suddenly, had they taken an interest in her? And what negotiations? He resented being played, especially by men who weren’t fit to polish his boots. He met the dark eyes across from his. “Valuable how?”

The foreigner shrugged. “Consider it currency.”

Currency. Trade. Exchange. Matheson’s lips curled as he considered the advantage to his own long-range goals. If the president’s daughter were suddenly the bargaining chip between the U.S. government and foreign terrorists, he wondered how long the president would pay lip service to his policy of not negotiating with terrorists. The president’s capitulation would strike another blow to his credibility and further weaken his paper tiger government.

“We’re talking about a very expensive commodity,” Matheson said.

“Money is of no consequence to us.”

“Twenty million.”

“A very reasonable sum. You can send information regarding payment through the usual channels. We would prefer a midweek delivery. We have a busy schedule too.”

The foreigner smiled with obvious satisfaction and Matheson wanted to put a bullet between his eyes. Instead, he rose and carefully placed payment for the coffee plus a fifteen percent tip on the table. If he couldn’t deliver as promised, he could always fall back on his initial plan and kill her. “Consider it done.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sunday

Dana barreled out of her bedroom and nearly ran over Emory in the hall. Emory obviously had just come from the shower, since her hair lay in damp wavy strands on her shoulders and she wore nothing except a large white bath towel rolled over just above the tops of her breasts.

“Sorry,” Dana said, grasping Emory’s shoulders to steady her as she stumbled backward. She tried really hard not to look down at Emory’s breasts, but she failed. And when she looked back up, she knew Emory had noticed. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Emory asked, enjoying the off-balance look in Dana’s eyes. And enjoying the appreciation in them too. She’d never given much thought to her body. She was happy that she was fit and healthy. But she wasn’t so self-deluded as to pretend she didn’t know others considered her attractive. That was nice, but didn’t rank high on things that were important to her. Except in the last two days. She loved that Dana found her attractive. Knowing that she could somehow make worldly Dana as off-kilter and unsure of herself as she seemed to be gave her a thrill. She wondered how much more excited she would feel if Dana actually put her hands where her gaze had just lingered.

“What?” Dana asked, sounding dazed.

Emory smiled. Dana wore jeans, a navy T-shirt with long sleeves that she pushed up to her elbows, and scuffed brown boots. Her almost-tight T-shirt outlined her small, neat breasts and narrow waist. Sexy, God, she was sexy in a completely unstudied way. “Sorry for what?”

“Uh, for almost running you over.” Dana backed up a step. Emory smelled like Ivory soap again, and her skin was flushed. Probably just from the heat of the shower, but Dana just knew Emory’s skin would be exactly that color when she was aroused. And she wanted nothing more in the world than to open that towel and slide her hands over the full breasts that lay beneath it. She wanted it so much she was choking on desire.

“Did you sleep all right?” Emory asked, trying to decipher Dana’s expression. Lean and hungry. She’d never really thought about what that phrase meant until just this moment, but that’s exactly how Dana looked at her. As if she were ravenous and wanted to taste her. Emory backed up in the other direction, fearful of broadcasting her arousal because she had no idea how to hide it. She licked her lips and cleared her dry throat when Dana continued to stare. “Were you going somewhere?”

“Coming to find you,” Dana said. “Patrice Hara called down. We’re on schedule to fly to Colorado today. Blair is looking for you. She said to give you the message to come up.”

“I’ll get dressed and pack, then.” Emory circled around Dana to get to her own room. Just before she went inside, she turned back to where Dana still stood in the hall. “I had a nice time last night. Just talking and watching television. I haven’t done anything that simple in a long time.” Emory hesitated. “And I liked the good-night kiss too.”

“So did I.” Dana grinned a little, recalling the exceptionally soft, exceptionally warm, and exceptionally wonderful kiss they had shared just before going to their separate bedrooms. Emory had been the one to lean forward when they stood outside their adjacent doors to say good night. Emory had kissed her first. “It was a great night. Even if we had sworn off orgasms for the evening.”

Emory laughed. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t swear off orgasms. Just not together.”

“Are you saying you…” Dana closed her eyes. “Oh man, that is so so unfair.”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Dana heard a door shut, and when she opened her eyes she was alone. She’d probably been awake the night before, restless and aroused, while Emory had been lying in the dark in the room next to hers, touching herself, making herself come. If she’d known, she doubted she would have been able to keep from going next door. But Emory had said she wasn’t ready, and more than Dana wanted her—and it felt like she wanted her more than she’d ever wanted any woman in her life—she wanted Emory to want it too.

She’d just have to be patient, but God, it was hard, when she couldn’t seem to think about anything except tasting her, and touching her, and making her sigh with pleasure.

“Perfect,” she grumbled, returning to her bedroom to grab her luggage. “Absolutely perfect time to be obsessed with a woman who might not even end up being interested—right when I’m in the middle of not just one, but two or three big stories.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Emory said from the open doorway.

Dana spun around. Emory was no longer wearing a towel, but the silk T-shirt tucked into casual black slacks had almost the same effect. She was still beautiful and sexy. She was drying the ends of her hair with a hand towel, and after a few seconds she tilted her head quizzically.

“Dana?”

“Yes. I’m talking to myself. Well, apparently if you heard me, I’m talking to both of us.”

Emory laughed. “Do you know that you don’t make a lot of sense sometimes?”

“We’re not even kissing, and I’m stupid and senseless just from looking at you.”

Slowly, Emory lowered the towel, and the look on her face changed from amusement to surprise. “If you didn’t look so flummoxed, I might not believe you. You don’t know what’s going on any more than I do, do you?”

“Not exactly.” Dana grinned. “I understand some of it. The part where we get naked…”

“That part I get.” Emory took a deep breath. “I came to ask what I should do with my luggage.”

“Leave it inside the front door. Someone will pick it up and bring it down to the cars.”

“I’ll be ready in a just a minute.”

Dana lifted her battered canvas travel bag. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

“Okay.” Emory turned away, then looked back. “I’m trying not to worry about the fact that I don’t understand what’s going on. And just for the record, I really like the way you look at me.”

And then she was gone, leaving Dana feeling totally out of her depth and, strangely, not caring.

“Hey! Look who’s here,” a small, wiry redhead exclaimed when Emory and Dana walked into Blair’s loft.

“Steph!” Emory hurried toward the woman. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“Tanner decided to give me some time off.”

While Dana watched, the redhead—Steph—draped an arm around Emory’s waist way too casually, pulled her into a full body hug, and kissed her on the mouth. Dana narrowed her eyes, taking in the black fatigue pants, black T-shirt, and black boots. Jesus Christ, a mercenary. Well, these days they were called contract workers or security personnel or some other equally bland term, but they were mercenaries just the same. Where the hell did she come from? And what the hell was she doing pawing Emory? Dana checked the rest of the room. A power meeting was underway, by the looks of things.

Blair and Diane were in the sitting area, cups of coffee and a tray of bagels and muffins between them on the low table. Greg Wozinski sat on the arm of a chair near the door, drinking coffee and talking to Paula Stark, who was flanked by two burly jarheads dressed like the tough little number still fondling Emory. A gorgeous coffee-skinned woman with shoulder-length coppery gold hair stood next to the breakfast bar in conversation with Cameron Roberts. When the woman, whose body radiated tension, turned to survey Dana with an intense, flat gaze, Dana pegged her as federal. Not part of Blair Powell’s personal security detail—probably FBI. Valerie was missing, but then she often was— part of the OHS team, but still a loner. Dana’s skin prickled. She was getting the picture, a picture that said Cameron Roberts had put her OHS squad together by pulling from existing agencies, which made sense. Secret Service, FBI, civilian contractors—and Valerie? No Last Name Valerie had come from someplace deep and dark. Another story there.

As much as Dana wanted to stay and drag Steph away from Emory, she was working. She walked over to Blair. “I hear we’re heading for the mountains.”

Blair smiled. “At last.”

“Looks like you’ve picked up a lot of new people.”

“Just some friends who dropped by.” Blair pointed to the muffins. “Have something to eat.”

“Thanks.” Dana sat down, poured a cup of coffee, and balanced a blueberry muffin on a napkin on her knee. “Where did you come by the private guys?”

“They work for a good friend of ours,” Blair said. “You’ll meet her in Colorado. Tanner Whitley.”

“Why do I know the name?” Dana frowned, then checked out Steph, who was still in animated conversation with Emory and the other two guys in black. “Whitley as in the Whitley Corp?”

“That’s right.”

“I heard they might be helping out with personnel and technical support over in the desert,” Dana said casually.

Blair glanced at Diane, who raised her eyebrows as if to say she had no idea and if she did, she wouldn’t admit it. “Tanner has a lot of business interests I don’t know about.”

“Tanner Whitley. She’s the daughter, right? The one who inherited the whole Whitley empire?”

“That’s the one.”

“Really,” Dana said, her interest escalating. No wonder the president’s daughter appeared to have civilian contractors as part of her security team. Irregular, for sure. But it would explain why they were trusted. The real question was, why weren’t regular agents being used if Blair needed more security? Something had happened to cast doubt on the usual channels, and Dana was willing to bet it all went back to Boston, or maybe even before that. Whatever had gone down, Cameron Roberts and Paula Stark were distrustful of agents from inside the system. Jesus. What the hell was going on?

“So you all know each other?” Dana asked.

“Tanner and Diane and I have been friends forever,” Blair said.

Diane Bleeker laughed. “Not exactly forever, Blair darling, but close enough.”

Diane’s blond hair swirled elegantly around her long, graceful neck, and in her casual slacks and black cashmere pullover, she looked younger than Dana had first thought. She realized they’d all probably been in school together. She sipped her coffee. “That must have been fun—the three of you in school together.”

“Well, Blair and Tanner were a little on the wild side,” Diane said self-righteously. “I was the model of decorum.”

Blair snorted. “God, what an awful liar.”

“Oh, all right,” Diane said, nudging Blair’s calf with her toe. “We all had our moments. But just look at us now. Tanner swore she never wanted the business. Never intended to settle down.” Diane shook her head “Now she’s married, to a career naval officer of all things, and you’re about to make a big public splash with a Fed.” She took Blair’s hand. “What a ride.”

Blair gave Diane an affectionate look. “And it’s not over by a long shot.”

Dana was struck once more by the clear and unself-conscious tenderness between the two women. Throw in Tanner Whitley and there had to be a great sidebar there, but the story was none of her business, and no one else’s either. She averted her gaze just in time to see Steph run her hand down the outside of Emory’s arm and briefly squeeze Emory’s hand.

“Who is she, exactly?” Dana asked before she could stop herself.

“Besides yummy, you mean?” Diane replied, her tone teasing.

Dana hoped she wasn’t glowering.

“She works for Tanner,” Blair repeated. “And she’s a friend.”

A very good friend, at least of Emory’s from the looks of it. Dana couldn’t ever really recall being jealous before. Not the way she felt right now. Like she wanted to physically put herself between Steph and Emory and make some macho statement about ownership and beat her chest like an idiot. Emory would probably think she’d lost her mind. She probably had.

“She and Emory look really good together, don’t you think?” Diane said, reaching for a bagel.

“Stop it,” Blair muttered.

Dana gritted her teeth.

“I’m sorry.” Diane laughed. “But since I’m the only one who never gets to see her girlfriend, I’m allowed to act out a little bit.”

“Where is Valerie, anyhow?” Dana asked.

“I don’t recall mentioning her name,” Diane said, suddenly serious.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You’re really good at this reporter thing, aren’t you?”

Dana grinned. “Some people think so.”

“It’s not like you’re not going to see us together,” Diane went on. “At least, I hope you will. If Cameron decides to let her out of this building sometime in the next few days.”

“Diane,” Blair said quietly.

“It’s okay,” Dana said, surprising herself. “We’re off the record here. And I already figured out that Valerie is part of the OHS team. Diane’s not giving anything away.” She put her empty coffee cup and napkin aside and leaned forward, focusing on Blair. “I understand there are certain things that need to be kept confidential—like the identities of your security people and the members of the deputy director’s team. Being around everyone like this all the time, it’s pretty easy to figure out the players. I want you to understand that I don’t have any intention of compromising them.”

“I believe you,” Blair said. “But you’re not the first reporter I’ve ever met. You have some biologic imperative to poke into things.”

Dana grinned. “You’re right. I won’t deny it.”

“And I also know that you have this obsessive need to not only inform, but to use the power of the press in the name of what you consider justice.”

“Consider? Isn’t justice immutable?”

Cam walked up behind Blair just as Dana asked the question and rested her hands on Blair’s shoulders. She leaned over the back of the couch and kissed Blair, murmured hello, then regarded Dana intently. “Not when justice depends upon the human assessment of merit, or of right and wrong.”

“Then how do we administer it?” Dana asked.

“We have laws,” Cam said. “And sometimes the course is so clear, the laws are redundant.”

Blair covered Cam’s hand and squeezed gently, but her eyes were on Dana. “You may not quote that, Dana.”

“I wasn’t going to. And for the record, I agree.” Dana stood, deciding it was time to meet Steph. “What are the plans when we get to Colorado?”

Blair brightened. “If there’s enough snow, I’m going skiing.”

“It’ll be dark,” Cam pointed out.

Blair swiveled around to kneel on the couch, draped her arms around Cam’s shoulders, and pulled her down into a serious kiss. “There will be moonlight. You can do anything by moonlight.”

Diane sighed. “Should I remind you that some of us are going to be solo for at least another day?”

“I’m sorry,” Cam said apologetically. “She should be able to follow us tomorrow.”

“If she doesn’t,” Diane said, poking Cam’s shoulder vigorously, “I’m going to hound you until she arrives. You haven’t experienced misery until you’ve been around me when I’m unrequited for too long.”

Cam grinned. “I wasn’t aware that ever happened.”

“Now can I quote you?” Dana asked.

Laughing, Diane looped her arm through Dana’s and bent her head close. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you stand in for Valerie until she arrives at the resort. I hate being without an escort.”

“You’re going to have to define stand in,” Dana said playfully.

“That’s something I’ll have to think about.” Diane frowned. “And that’s certainly new.”

Dana managed to avoid being captured in the hypnotic seductiveness of Diane’s sultry gaze, only to realize Emory was standing a few feet away watching them. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Emory said with just the slightest bit of chill in her voice. “Have I missed out on plans for a party?”

“Not my idea of a party,” Diane said wryly. “Blair is going skiing later.”

“Good,” Emory said. “I hope they’ve got plenty of extra gear at the lodge, because I’m going to join her.”

“I think everyone has lost their minds,” Diane said. “I for one intend to sit before the fire with a glass of wine and think about absolutely nothing at all.”

“Do you ski, Dana?” Emory asked.

“I do, but I have a feeling I’m going to be outclassed by everyone here.”

“Well then you can join me by the fire.” Diane smiled mischievously. “Adding logs and whatnot to make sure we stay warm.”

“Thanks,” Dana said, “but if Emory doesn’t mind company, I just might try the slopes.”

“Company would be nice,” Emory said softly.

“Good, then it’s a date,” Dana replied, fervently hoping that would be true.

The colonel handed the binoculars to Matheson, who lay beside him in the snow on the side of a mountain in Colorado. A huge timber lodge and smaller cabins lay in a cleared area of forest a quarter mile below them. “The main lodge, the individual cabins, and the ski lift are in rifle range from here. The SSM is another alternative.” He turned and indicated one of several narrow, overgrown trails that ribboned through the snow-laden woods below them. “With snowmobiles we can traverse down the other side of the mountain to our vehicles and onto the interstate in under ten minutes.”

“And you’ve prepared the rendezvous point for emergency evac?” Matheson asked, accepting the binoculars.

“The vehicles are ready and waiting. The weapons too. All well camouflaged.”

“You’re sure no one noticed your reconnaissance?”

“The nearest village is six miles away, and it’s ski season. Lots of tourists. Plus, reporters are beginning to arrive in town. A few have already been up here trying to get an advance story from the innkeeper. No one paid any attention to me.” The colonel shrugged. “I’ve seen Secret Service people at the lodge, but they can’t cover the whole mountainside. With all the trails and heavy tree cover, even aerial recon is difficult. I imagine they’ll keep her under close protection when she’s outside.”

“I’m glad she likes to ski.” Matheson studied the idyllic, rustic scene below them, imagining Blair Powell stepping out onto the wide front porch of the chalet in the morning sun and directly into his gun sights. So easy. So beautiful.

He sighed. Taking her alive would be so much more difficult, and he wasn’t at all certain that the pleasure would be as intense. For now, he would keep his options open. After all, his friends were not the ones in charge, and never would be. This was his country.

Chapter Twenty

Late Sunday Night Colorado

Emory turned at the sound of footsteps on the porch behind her and smiled as Dana approached. “How did the interview go?”

“Amazing.” Dana joined Emory at the railing of the wide deck that fronted the ski lodge. At just after nine, the moon was high and partially shrouded in clouds. The only illumination came from the windows behind them and the glow of the huge fire burning in the stone hearth in the common room. Shadows danced across Emory’s face. Despite the near zero temperature, Dana found the crystal-clear mountain air invigorating. She felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. She wondered when she had stopped feeling, when she had replaced emotion with activity. She couldn’t pinpoint just when she had abandoned the idea of a relationship and substituted danger for desire. But she knew the exact moment when all that had changed. It had happened that day in the hotel when Emory heard she was a reporter and her expression had gone from open welcome to closed reserve. Emory’s withdrawal had been like a door slamming shut on her heart, and she’d immediately wanted to wrench it open again. She’d spent every moment since trying. “Besides being a world-renowned artist, Marcea Cassels is an incredible woman.”

“You’ve hit the jackpot in terms of stumbling upon newsworthy people,” Emory commented.

Dana searched her face for signs of criticism, but didn’t find any. She realized then that Emory didn’t consider herself one of those remarkable people. She hesitated, then said, “My editor sent me here with orders to interview you too.”

“I gathered that much from the questions you were asking the other day at the coffee shop.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Uneasy. Uncomfortable.”

“Then he’ll have to be content with the social events of the next few days,” Dana said, “and the interviews I already have.”

Emory looked surprised. “Just like that? You’ll ditch the story?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

Dana shrugged. “It isn’t. But I care about you, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because of something I’ve done.” She leaned closer, her mouth close to Emory’s cheek. “I only want to make you uncomfortable in a good way.”

Emory laughed a little shakily. “You’re succeeding.”

“Glad to hear it.” Dana risked stroking Emory’s cheek. She wasn’t so much concerned that someone would see them as she was at her inability to stop at a simple touch. She’d thought about Emory all day, thought about kissing her, thought about the hot, sultry taste of her mouth and the way her lips slid over hers when they kissed. She imagined how it would feel to hold her breasts in her hands, to squeeze and mold them until Emory whimpered.

Fantasizing about Emory had kept her pleasantly occupied on the slopes when she couldn’t keep up with Emory and Blair. She could ski, but with nothing like their speed and skill. She hadn’t minded. She’d been more interested in watching Emory than the slopes, anyhow. She’d loved how athletically graceful and exuberantly free Emory had been. She wanted to put that look of unfettered joy on her face. Without thinking, she cupped Emory’s cheek.

“Dana,” Emory murmured, leaning into Dana’s hand. “You can interview me, as long as we’re clear that only what I tell you during the course of the interview itself gets into print.”

“Okay,” Dana said, her voice husky.

Emory searched Dana’s face, her eyes questioning. “I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I couldn’t be more excited.” Dana brushed her thumb over the corner of Emory’s mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. I want to kiss you—everywhere.”

Emory caught her breath, a spiral of excitement coursing through her. She gripped the wooden railing with one hand and squeezed tightly, hoping Dana couldn’t tell she was trembling. She’d been standing in the dark, watching the incredible night sky unfold overhead, and trying to imagine a casual physical encounter with Dana. She was far from a blushing virgin, and the idea of being with a woman didn’t seem strange. Diane and Blair weren’t her first lesbian friends and even if they had been, she’d thought of being with a woman before. She just hadn’t met one she wanted, not the way she wanted Dana. The idea of sex with Dana disconcerted her, not because Dana was a woman, but because Emory wanted her so much. She’d never craved another’s touch the way she craved Dana’s, as if the need were more than physical. Nothing ever distracted her, especially when she decided to put something from her mind. But she couldn’t keep Dana from her thoughts. She was aware of her, no matter where she was in a room. Just looking at her gave her a twinge of pleasure. She could even handle a one-night stand, if that’s the way things turned out. What worried her was that one short night might not assuage her hunger. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you?” Emory pulled away, gently breaking their contact. “I want to go to bed with you and I have no idea why.”

“Do you like me?”

Emory laughed. “I do.”

“Good, because I like you too.” Dana glanced through the window behind her to the interior of the lodge. Figures moved beyond the glass, but they were alone on the veranda. She unzipped her ski parka and then did the same to Emory’s. Turning her back to the railing, she leaned against a post and pulled Emory close. Their coats opened to allow their bodies to touch. Emory settled into the vee between her thighs and Dana wrapped her arms around Emory’s waist. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day.”

“Then perhaps you should.”

When their mouths met, Emory snugged her pelvis tighter into Dana’s crotch and gripped the waistband of Dana’s jeans with both hands. They fit together as if they had kissed a thousand times.

Dana meant to go slow, but the tease of Emory’s tongue between her lips was like fuel to a fire and desire blazed through her, destroying restraint. She deepened the kiss and skimmed one hand under Emory’s sweater, sliding up to cup her breast. When Emory moaned and pressed into her palm, her mind emptied of thought and her body surged with uncontrollable want. She sucked on Emory’s tongue and found her nipple through the thin silk covering her breast. When she squeezed, Emory shuddered against her.

“God, Dana, I can’t do this here.”

“I’m sorry,” Dana groaned, forcing her hand away from Emory’s breast. “I’m so sorry.”

Emory pressed trembling fingers to Dana’s mouth. “Don’t say that. I think I’m the one who told you to kiss me.”

“You didn’t tell me to start pawing at you,” Dana said, disgusted with herself for not treating Emory more carefully. “I just couldn’t stop.”

“I love knowing you want me.” Emory rested her forehead against Dana’s. She took a slow breath and let it out. “Would you come to my cabin tonight?”

Dana kissed her very carefully. “Are you sure?”

Emory withdrew a key from her pocket and pressed it into Dana’s hand. “I’m very sure.”

“When?” Dana said urgently.

Emory laughed, loving the sound of desire in her voice. “I promised Blair I’d partner with her at cards for a while. After that, I’m all yours.”

“Blair seems relaxed,” Marcea said.

“That’s because she’s winning.” Cam leaned back on the sofa next to her mother, crossing her legs at the ankle. She sipped her wine and enjoyed the sight of Blair laughing, her hair loose, dressed in faded jeans and a navy V-neck sweater that made her eyes seem impossibly blue. At moments like this, Cam was both saddened and joyful. Blair’s rare exuberance reminded her of just how much the burden of being a public figure, and lately, a secret target, weighed on her. If Cam could give her anything, it would be peace of mind. But as that was beyond her ability, she would give her as much freedom to be herself, safe and unafraid, as she could. “She loves competition.”

Marcea softly tapped Cam’s knee. “It seems you’re well matched in that regard.”

Cam chuckled. “True.”

“Are you looking forward to Saturday?”

“I am.” Cam shifted her gaze from her lover to her mother. “It means something, to say out loud in front of friends and family what you know to be true in your heart.”

“It does. I’m so happy for you, Cameron.” She touched Cam’s hand. “So if you’re not nervous, what is it that’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Cam said quickly.

“I imagine that doesn’t work with Blair,” Marcea observed easily, “any more than it does with me. I’ve been hearing the things you don’t say for a good many years.”

Cam studied her wine. “Nothing specific, but ever since September…” She shrugged. “I can’t help feeling something else is coming, and not knowing when or how or from where makes me uneasy.”

“This seems like an ideal location,” Marcea observed. “Only one main access road, the individual cabins are not too isolated despite being private, and we’re halfway up a mountain. I would imagine securing your perimeter is easier here than it would be in the city.”

“You learned a lot as an ambassador’s wife.” Cam smiled, but they both knew caution wasn’t enough. It hadn’t saved her father from being killed by a car bomb.

“Yes.” Marcea took Cam’s hand. “You will take care of yourself while you’re taking care of her, won’t you?”

“I will.”

“Good.” Marcea released Cam’s hand and scanned the people gathered in the common room. “Having a reporter this close must be a challenge.”

Cam regarded Dana, who leaned against the fireplace, a beer in her hand, her moody gaze riveted to Emory. “It’s working out better than I expected. Barnett’s a straight shooter, and she seems to have found a way to get Blair to trust her.”

“Blair would value honesty,” Marcea said. “And of course, Dana falling for a good friend probably wins points with Blair too.”

“Is that what’s happening, do you think?”

Marcea laughed. “I don’t claim to be an expert, but even I can read what’s in Dana’s mind right now.”

Cam grunted. “Even with Dana on board we still have to allow the media some access. I held them off when we arrived today, but we have a short press conference scheduled tomorrow.”

“You don’t like it.”

“No.”

“Blair must find it difficult,” Marcea said.

“Having her friends here helps.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting the infamous Tanner and her captain.”

“You’ll like them,” Cam said. “When is Giancarlo arriving?”

“Wednesday. He had business he couldn’t wrap up until then.”

“I rather thought you might be the first one to get married,” Cam said.

“Oh, I’m very fond of him, but marriage is not something I’m quite in the market for. I have my work, as does he, and when we do find time together, it makes the pleasure even more enjoyable.”

“I can understand that.” Cam grinned as Blair whooped and raked in a fistful of cards, obviously having won a big hand. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of being around her.”

“No, I can’t imagine you will,” Marcea said gently. “That’s the difference between loving someone and being in love with them.”

At that moment, Blair shifted in her seat and glanced in Cam’s direction. She grinned and mouthed I love you.

Cam smiled back, but she was thinking how dark her world had become after losing her father. She couldn’t fathom losing Blair. And she knew, no matter what she had to do, she would never let that happen.

“Can I talk you into the hot tub?” Blair asked, hooking her arm through Cam’s as they navigated the snowy path to their cabin. Unlike the last time they’d stayed at the lodge, before she and Cam had become lovers, they weren’t staying in the main house. Doris, the owner, had insisted they take the honeymoon cabin, the last one in a line of several surrounded by trees with a large private deck and hot tub. Diane had the cabin next to Blair’s, although it was barely visible now with only the moonlight illuminating the mountainside. Emory had another closer to the house, Marcea had one, and another was reserved for Tanner and Adrienne, when they arrived. Other guests and team members had rooms inside the lodge.

“You won’t even have to try hard,” Cam replied.

Blair slowed as they climbed the steps to their cabin. “How are you feeling? Are your ribs hurting?”

“Nothing a few minutes in the hot tub won’t cure.” Cam slipped her fingers beneath Blair’s hair and cupped the back of her neck, stroking her as Blair unlocked the door. “Emory looked like she was a pretty good partner.”

“We killed them.” Blair pulled off her coat as she stepped into the cabin. The décor was rustic ski lodge, with comfortable sofas, chairs, and coffee table in the main room by the fireplace. A small kitchen occupied the rear of the cabin and opened onto the back deck. A door on the left led to a separate bedroom with a king-sized bed and adjoining bath. “Do you want wine?”

“I’ve had enough.” Cam glanced over her shoulder, noting Wozinski on the trail. She knew he would walk a perimeter around the cabin before returning to his post farther up the trail. She closed the door. “Give Greg a minute to finish out back.”

“I’ll grab towels and meet you at the back door, then,” Blair said.

A few minutes later, Blair reappeared in the kitchen wrapped in just a towel. Cam quickly stripped and grabbed the other towel. “I already opened the tub.”

“Good. Race you.” Blair opened the back door and ran outside, Cam close on her heels. The air was sharp, cutting clean, and Blair felt wonderful. Poised on the top step of the hot tub, she turned to take in Cam, breathlessly beautiful beneath the stars. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening.” She slid into the steaming water.

Cam joined her, bracing both hands on the rim of the tub on either side of Blair’s shoulders, legs straddling Blair’s hips, trapping her. She inclined her head and kissed her. “Have you now.”

“I have.” Blair gripped Cam’s hips. “I’ve been thinking about how you taste.”

“I’ve been thinking about this too, and my picture was a little different.” Cam eased a hand between their bodies until she cupped the hot, silky mound between Blair’s legs. Blair spread her arms out along the edge of the tub and let her head fall back, her lids heavy, her breath coming slow and deep.

“Mmm,” Blair murmured. “I definitely like your picture.”

“Good.” Cam squeezed rhythmically, her thumb swiping the base of Blair’s clitoris each time she massaged her. She kissed her mouth, her neck, and nipped at the skin beneath her ear. The muscles in Blair’s arms stood out as she clutched the side of the tub, her hips rising and falling below the bubbling water.

“Feel good?” Cam muttered, her teeth raking the column of Blair’s neck.

“Better than.” Blair swirled her hips in invitation. “I want you inside.”

“You’ll come.”

Blair laughed, her throat arched and exposed. “You’re right, I will. I want to.”

Cam licked the mist from the hollow at the base of Blair’s throat and slipped into her. Instantly, Blair closed around her fingers and Cam groaned. She sucked the tight muscle that ran along the pounding pulse, murmuring her approval when Blair covered her hand and pushed her fingers deeper.

“God, Cam, I love you,” Blair whispered. “I’m getting close.”

“I love you.” Cam settled onto the bench and pulled Blair into her lap. Blair’s arms came around her neck and Cam cradled her against her body as she moved slowly inside her. Blair’s clitoris stirred against her palm and Blair made a small broken sound. “You like that, baby?”

Blair pressed her face to Cam’s neck, her hands fitful on Cam’s shoulders. “I’m going to come.”

Cam kissed her eyes, her mouth, and rocked her gently even as she pushed in short, hard thrusts between her legs. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful.”

Blair arched in Cam’s arms and gave one sharp cry before shuddering uncontrollably for several moments. Cam didn’t move as Blair tightened and pulsed around her.

“Ah, God,” Blair sighed. “I can’t believe I haven’t gotten used to you yet. I can’t last even when I want to.”

“Why try? We can always do it again.”

Lazily, Blair lifted her head and combed her fingers through Cam’s hair. “Let’s go inside. I want you in my mouth.”

“Jesus,” Cam groaned, her stomach tightening. “I think you could talk me into an orgasm right about now.”

Laughing, Blair stood, water cascading from her flushed body. She held out her hand. “Let’s find out.”

From his blind in the forest a hundred yards away, Matheson watched through the night goggles, first as the president’s daughter climaxed with a wild cry of triumph, then as she stood naked in the moonlight a few moments later. Had he not just seen her waste her power and her beauty on another woman, he would have thought her perfect. Although his penis was hard, his mind was clear. She was tainted, defiled. If her death served the cause, she might at last be redeemed.

He hunkered down inside the thermal bag, shifting to make room for the sniper rifle cradled like a lover along his side. It would not be long now.

Chapter Twenty-one

At the sound of soft knocking on her cabin door, Emory took two steps forward, then faltered to a stop. Her hands were shaking. Her entire body was shaking. She’d never done anything remotely like this in her life.

“Emory,” Dana called softly from the other side. “Everything is negotiable.”

Smiling, Emory found her legs and made it to the front door. She pulled it open, a blast of frigid air streaking past her as if determined to put the fire out on the opposite side of the room. Dana stood hunched in the doorway, her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her hair windblown.

“Come inside. You look like you’re freezing.”

“It took me a few minutes to make it onto the porch.”

Emory closed the door and leaned back against it. “Really? So I’m not the only one who’s nervous?”

“Not by a long shot.”

Dana unzipped her jacket. Beneath it she wore a dark T-shirt tucked into her jeans. It was easy for Emory to see the curve of her breasts outlined by the tight material. Dana wasn’t wearing a bra, and that simple knowledge made Emory tighten inside. She pressed her hands flat against the door, willing herself to stay in place. Her mind couldn’t quite make sense of what she was doing, but her body labored under no such confusion. She wanted to touch Dana, everywhere. She remembered what Dana had said on the porch just a few hours before. I want to kiss you, everywhere. Imagining it, Emory grew wet. “I can’t believe I invited you to come to my cabin for sex.”

Dana smiled crookedly. “You did, didn’t you.”

Mutely, Emory nodded.

“We don’t have to, you know.” Dana indicated her jacket. “Do you mind if I take this off?”

“Of course not. There’s wine in the refrigerator. Some fruit and cheese too, compliments of the lodge. Would you like some?”

Dana shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on a coat tree just inside the door. Closer now to Emory, she took her hand. Emory’s fingers were cold, despite the fact that the room was warm. The look in Emory’s eyes had gone from stark confusion to wary interest over the last few minutes. Better, but not anywhere near comfortable enough for them to do anything other than talk. “Let’s sit by the fire. I’m not hungry for anything except your company.”

“You say the nicest things,” Emory whispered.

“All true.” Dana drew Emory to the sofa in front of the fire and sat down, coaxing Emory to curl up by her side. She shifted until her back was in the corner and Emory reclined in her embrace. Dana wrapped her arms around her, both hands resting lightly on Emory’s midsection, and kissed her. “This is nice.”

Emory threaded her arm around Dana’s waist and rested her head on Dana’s shoulder. She loved the way Dana’s body felt, hard and strong, but yielding in just the right way. They fit together effortlessly. She kissed Dana’s neck and felt her stiffen. “Don’t you like that?”

“No, I do.” Dana swallowed and stroked Emory’s hair. “I like it a lot.” She turned slightly onto her side and stretched so they lay facing each other on the sofa. “Being close to you like this… I can’t think of much else except how good it feels.”

“It feels good to me too.” Emory traced trembling fingers along Dana’s jaw. “I appreciate you not rushing me.”

“Like I said, everything is negotiable.” Dana shifted, easing her leg between Emory’s thighs. Her stomach was tight with excitement and her clit ached. She struggled not to move, not to press herself against Emory. “We’ve done pretty well with the kissing so far. That would probably be safe.”

“Oh, you think so?” Emory laughed shakily. “I never got excited lying next to a man this way. Not like I am now.” She caressed Dana’s back, then her ass. Her breath came faster as the surface of her skin became electric, her vision tunneling until all she saw was Dana’s face. “Kiss me, and we’ll see how long we last.”

Not long, Dana thought, as she covered Emory’s mouth with hers. She teased with her tongue, sucked gently, licked the full, soft surface of Emory’s lips. Emory moved in her arms, unconsciously seductive, and Dana tightened her hold. Unwilling to break the kiss, even to breathe, she grew dizzy and desperate with need. Finally, she pulled away with a short gasp. “Time. I need a break.”

“Why?” Emory’s eyes were cloudy, her face soft with arousal. She stroked Dana’s cheek before running her hand down the flat of Dana’s chest and cupping her breast through her T-shirt. Dana groaned and arched her back.

“God, Emory, I’m so wound up. I can’t—”

“I want to make love to you,” Emory whispered. “Can I do that? I think if I touch you, I won’t be so afraid.”

Dana forced back her desire. “What are you afraid of?”

“Of losing myself in this terrible need I have for you.”

“Whatever you want, whatever you need,” Dana whispered. “We can stop now.”

“Could you?” Emory asked urgently. “Because I can’t. I don’t want to. Will you let me touch you?”

Dana nodded, knowing she was already lost.

“In the bedroom. I want to be able to see you, touch you.” Emory pushed Dana away gently. “Let’s go in the bedroom.”

Dana stood, her legs unsteady. When Emory rose, she circled her shoulders, and Emory grasped the back of her jeans. Together they walked to the bedroom. Emory turned on a lamp on the dresser.

“Should I take off my clothes?” Dana asked.

Emory pulled down the covers, then, with her eyes on Dana, she lifted her sweater over her head and let it fall. She wore nothing beneath it. “Come here.”

Dana obeyed, her gaze lifting from Emory’s softly swaying breasts to her face. “God.”

Smiling, Emory gripped Dana’s T-shirt and pulled it from her jeans. When the backs of her fingers brushed Dana’s stomach, Dana moaned. Emory looked down, surprised to see Dana’s hands clenched at her sides. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you know how beautiful you are? I want to touch you.” Dana’s voice was hoarse, strained with the effort to contain her surging arousal.

“Then you should.” Emory lifted Dana’s hands to her breasts. When Dana’s fingers closed around her, she tilted her head back and sighed. “I love the way your hands feel on me. I fantasized about your fingers on my nipples, squeezing th—” She groaned when Dana did. The faint roughness of Dana’s skin was exactly as she’d imagined. “Yes. Like that.” She leaned heavily against Dana as her arousal spilled from her. “But you can’t do that to me any longer. I’ll get too excited and forget what I’m doing.”

With a choked groan, Dana dropped her head to Emory’s shoulder, dragging her hands down to Emory’s waist. “I’m not sure how long I can take this, Emory. If I touch you again, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Just a little while. Just be patient a little while.” Emory ran her hands up and down Dana’s back, tracing the hard muscles along either side of her spine. Then, pulling back just enough to get her hands between them, she unzipped and unbuttoned Dana’s jeans and pushed them down. Dana was nude beneath these too, and discovering it, Emory gave a small cry of pleasure. “I love your body.”

“I don’t usually come easily,” Dana confessed, “but right now I feel like—I’m on the edge, Emory.”

“Whatever happens, it’s all right,” Emory soothed, rubbing the back of Dana’s neck. She kissed her and felt Dana quiver against her. It was heady, knowing she could do this to her. She probed her mouth, slowly and thoroughly, until they were both shuddering. Then she stepped back, opened her slacks, and swept the remaining barriers away. “Your jeans. Take them off.”

Within a minute, they were both naked. Emory climbed under the covers. “Lie down with me.”

When Dana stretched out beside her, Emory propped herself up so she could take her all in. Long waist, lean legs, small breasts. Her body was strong, hard, essentially female. She brushed her fingers over Dana’s stomach and marveled when her body tightened like a bowstring. “Are you very excited?”

“Oh yes.” Dana clutched the sheets with her left hand and gripped Emory’s shoulder with the other. “If you touch anywhere near my clit, I’m going to come.”

“What do you like?”

Dana gave a strangled laugh. “Right now? Anything.”

“I’ll rephrase. What would you like me to do right now?”

“Lie on top of me,” Dana whispered. When Emory did, Dana wrapped her arms around her and tilted her hips so that Dana’s leg rested against her center. “Oh yeah. That’s good.”

“Mmm.”

Emory kissed her, rocking indolently in the curve of her pelvis, their breasts gliding together. Dana skimmed her palms up the outside of Emory’s torso, feathering her fingers over the outer curve of her full breasts. Emory moaned and drove her hips harder between Dana’s legs. The alternating pressure and relentless friction pushed Dana higher. She wanted to let go, needed to let go, but more than that, she wanted Emory to have whatever she wanted. Dana dragged her mouth away. “You feel so good. You’re going to make me come like this.”

“I want to see you first.” Emory braced herself on her arms, then pushed down on the bed until she was between Dana’s legs.

Dana would have objected to the sudden absence of that hot mouth on hers, the sweet torment of Emory’s hands, if she hadn’t felt the warm rush of Emory’s breath between her legs. She’d never had a woman take her this way, so slowly, so simply, so thoroughly. When Emory stroked her finger between her legs, she cried out. “Oh God. Don’t touch me. Emory. Don’t.”

Emory laughed. “I most certainly intend to touch you.” Attentive to the desperate tenor of Dana’s voice, Emory shifted her fingers away from the one spot she most wanted to caress. Dana was hard and swollen and more beautiful than she had ever imagined. She trailed her fingertips up and down the crease between Dana’s thigh and her center, inches from where Dana pulsed and trembled. Emory wanted her in ways she hadn’t thought possible. Fiercely, wildly. Pressing her palms to the insides of Dana’s thighs, she pushed, spreading her legs, opening her. Dana groaned and lifted her pelvis, beckoning.

Ever so carefully, Emory brushed a kiss over Dana’s clitoris.

Dana’s body spasmed. “I won’t last.”

“Can you make it to ten?”

“I don’t think so,” Dana gasped. “I almost came then.”

“It’s all right, if you have to.” Emory kissed her again, a little more firmly, but still fleetingly. Dana clutched her shoulder, and Emory sensed that Dana wanted to force her mouth down on her. She loved Dana’s restraint almost as much as she wanted to break it. She licked her, and Dana tried to twist away. She held her legs more firmly and licked her again.

“God,” Dana cried out, her hips rising. “You have to make me come. Emory, please.”

“Mmm.” Nearly blind, barely breathing, Emory sealed her mouth around Dana’s hard length and slowly, tenderly sucked. Dana jerked against her mouth and grew even harder between her lips.

“Oh, yes.” Dana’s voice broke.

Emory concentrated intently, imprinting every tremor, every cry, every twist and turn as Dana writhed in the throes of her orgasm. Doors long shuttered flew open, barriers fell, defenses shattered. There would never be another first time for her, for them. There would never be another moment as life altering as this. Emory knew victory as surely as she felt her every vulnerability laid bare. When Dana finally arched away, tears streaked Emory’s cheeks. She pressed her face to Dana’s quivering abdomen. “Thank you.”

“Emory,” Dana whispered, feeling drugged. She wanted to sit up, she wanted to pull Emory into her arms, she wanted to give her pleasure for pleasure. She could barely lift her hand and just managed to stroke Emory’s face. She felt the wetness on her fingertips and her heart clenched. “What is it? Emory, what’s wrong?”

Emory shook her head. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is right.”

“I want to hold you, but I can’t move. Help me.”

Laughing softly, Emory moved farther up the bed and stretched out on top of Dana again. Their legs entwined, their breasts cleaved, their mouths fused. Emory burned. Her skin, her muscles, her clitoris. Flame. She needed to be touched. Desperately. “Dana,” she gasped, not knowing the words. “I need you.”

Dana’s strength returned in a rush and she rolled Emory over, following until she was poised above her on her knees and arm. She trailed her fingers between Emory’s legs. “Here?”

Emory’s eyes opened wide and she clamped her hand over Dana’s, pressing her fingers against the places that ached. “Yes. There. There. Oh God. Touch me, Dana, touch me. I want… I need…”

“I know.” Dana lowered her head to Emory’s breast and took her nipple into her mouth. She sucked, playing her tongue over the smooth, firm tip while she traced one finger around the echoing hardness below. Emory’s clitoris strained, ready to burst. She pressed, circled. “Here?”

“Yes,” Emory choked. “Yes.”

Dana kissed her way up the center of Emory’s throat to her mouth, circling her fingers faster between Emory’s legs.

“Dana,” Emory breathed in wonder. “Oh Dana.”

Dana kissed her as she cried out, drinking her pleasure as she poured out her passion. Emory’s cries dwindled to soft sighs, but her clitoris remained full and throbbing. Dana slid inside her, felt her muscles tighten, and stroked the still-hard prominence with her thumb. Emory’s thighs tensed.

“I…Dana…oh,” Emory stuttered as she pushed down against Emory’s hand. “I’m going to come again.”